


The Necessary Evil of Uncomfortable Shoes

by w0lf0fshad0w



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/M, M/M, Multi, Poor Bruce, Tony is generally useless at everyday things, and Bruce is only awake for a very small amount of time, in which Pepper is annoyed, shameless fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-20
Updated: 2013-08-20
Packaged: 2017-12-24 03:06:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/934565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/w0lf0fshad0w/pseuds/w0lf0fshad0w
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Almost every flat surface in the kitchen is covered in bowls, plates and cookware and she doesn’t want to take a closer look at whatever it is that seems to have been shoved into the corner underneath the dining table. A dining table that has somehow managed to migrate at least three feet to be pressed against the low dividing wall, trapping two chairs between metal and plaster. The lounge area itself looks like something exploded in it. Which very well might have happened, she considers briefly, it wouldn’t be the first time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Necessary Evil of Uncomfortable Shoes

**Author's Note:**

> The plot bunnies attacked in droves, demanding fluffy Doctor Pepperony... and who am I to resist?

The dull ache of circulation returning to bruised toes is the only thing she can focus on for a moment before the cold of the marble floor rushes up to soothe them. Pepper relishes the feeling, considering and subsequently throwing away the possibility of giving up on the heels for good, as annoying as they were, not every day was this bad and they had their advantages. The painful spots on her feet were the least of her troubles, but they were the tangible tipping point that pushed the last 60-odd hours of annoyance into full-blown frustration. She wasn’t even able to pinpoint the last time she had slept, she was reasonably sure she had at least managed a nap at some point since she had left on what was _meant_ to be a quick trip to meet with a potential new business partner in Italy, which had turned into a nearly three day nightmare of stall tactics and interrupted flight plans. It would have gone on longer but Pepper had lost patience with the proceedings roughly five hours after she had gotten there and another half-day after that had taken a page from Tony’s book and simply made her own arrangements to get back home. Which had possibly been too hasty a decision, she thinks, as she rounds the corner to the living area.

Almost every flat surface in the kitchen is covered in bowls, plates and cookware and she doesn’t want to take a closer look at whatever it is that seems to have been shoved into the corner underneath the dining table. A dining table that has somehow managed to migrate at least three feet to be pressed against the low dividing wall, trapping two chairs between metal and plaster. The lounge area itself looks like something exploded in it. Which very well might have happened, she considers briefly, it wouldn’t be the first time. The floor is so littered with debris ranging from crockery and objects from around the apartment (and was that parts of a gauntlet she could see on the coffee table?) to couch cushions and clothes, that she doesn’t even know where to look first. Looking half-heartedly at her uncomfortable-but-necessary shoes she considers putting them back on just to go down to whatever lab her boys had locked themselves away in to yell at them for this; because even though she knows that this was at least 80% Tony she’s in a foul enough mood to be annoyed with Bruce for letting it get this bad. But her feet give another painful throb, her lower back joining in on the complaint and she elects to put them away. Neatly, in the hall cupboard, where they _should be_ , unlike the three and a half pairs that she can see strewn around the wreckage of her lounge room in a way that makes her grateful that they don’t have any pets or small children to trip over them.

Another throb from her lower back, reminding her that there is only so much a spine can take before it needs a rest has Pepper making a beeline through the wreckage, towards the bedroom door. Dreaming of the world’s longest, hottest bath, she takes a moment to brace herself before pushing the door open.  She isn’t sure what she expected to see when the door swung open, more chaos she supposes, but Bruce sleeping fitfully under too many blankets while Tony dozed exhaustedly on top of the covers is not it. Bruce’s cheeks are flushed from more than the weight of the blankets above him and Pepper can see a hot water bottle, thermometer and what looks like half a pharmacy on the side table closest to her. Feet moving quietly on the thick carpet, she creeps around to the foot of the bed to get a better look and spots a pot of tea and a half-eaten bowl of soup on the other side table. A box of tissues in a bucket has pride of place on the floor nearby and she’s reasonably sure she can see even more blankets shoved haphazardly under the bed. There is a movie playing on the large screen mounted on the wall, muted, either by Tony or JARVIS but more likely the latter and a data-pad, still glowing a faint blue in standby, slips from Tony’s hand as he lets out a faint snore and curls himself around Bruce. What little anger that hasn’t faded to confusion vanishes as Bruce cracks a bleary eye at her, blinking vacantly as his eyes try to focus.

“You’re back,” he mumbles groggily, voice horse and strained as he reaches for his glasses. She watches his forehead scrunch itself into a confused frown as he reaches for his glasses and his hand hits the bed instead of the side table since he’s in the middle of the bed. Even if he could reach it wouldn’t help him, his glasses aren’t there anyway and Pepper is reasonably sure she saw them somewhere in the destruction of the lounge.

“And you’re sick,” she counters, moving to sit on the edge of the bed to push sweat-damp curls off his forehead. He doesn’t feel any warmer than usual, but the sweat may well suggest that his fever, if he had one at all, had broken already. She has just enough time to wonder if she had ever seen Bruce sick before Tony feels the need to chime in.

“And you’re both too loud,” he mutters, his hand nudging the data-pad that little bit too close to the edge of the bed and it slides almost soundlessly to the carpeted floor, “welcome back Pep. I made soup.”

“It was terrible,” Bruce adds with a weak but put on groan that makes Pepper smile as she runs her hand through his hair again.

“That’s why I made tea,” Tony replies, not bothering to cover his mouth as he yawns widely, worming his way under a few layers of blankets and curling himself back around Bruce, keeping his eyes on her.

“Which was also terrible,” Bruce grumbles, eyes sliding shut as Pepper’s hand massaged his scalp.

‘What happened?’ she mouths soundlessly across the now sleeping form of Bruce.

‘Accident,’ he replies silently with a lot of hand gestures that Pepper doesn’t quite understand. If she could follow half of what he was trying to explain to her she was sure she would be fascinated, but the bed is soft and welcoming and she begins to think that the bath can wait, prompting her to extract her hand from Bruce’s hair and stand up, hopefully for the last time for a while.

Pulling out the pin that is only barley holding her hair up at this point, she sheds most of her clothing because there is really no way to sleep comfortably in a suit, before fitting herself under a few of the blankets. Rolling against Bruce’s side she can feel the heat radiating off him, too warm under too many blankets, but she can’t bring herself to stand up and rectify the situation. She makes the mental note to teach Tony how to look after someone when they are sick, not really surprised the he seems to have no idea. He must have seen something in her expression, because she feels his hand find hers where it rests against Bruce’s chest, separated by more layers than she cares to think about as his exhausted gaze finder her eyes. She rubs small circles on the back of his hand with her thumb in reassurance, watching the concern and worry fade from his face before his eyes slide closed and he follows Bruce into sleep. Watching them for a moment she considers how exhausted Tony looked and the state of the apartment. The cabinets in the kitchen open and messy, but only the cabinets that held the saucepans, tea supplies, and medication. The stove was a mess, but there very well could have been left-over soup in one of the pans she didn’t look to closely at. The lounge room had been a mess, but there hadn’t been any pillows or blankets left in it and Pepper wagered that if she went looking, the linen closet would be empty as well. The anger from before was long gone, but now a familiar warmth settled in her chest as she threaded her fingers between Tony’s and settled her head on the pillow next to Bruce’s. She was glad to be home, and it wasn’t like it was the strangest scene she had ever come home to. In fact it would be hard pressed to make it into the top ten. All of the chaos of the apartment could be cleaned up tomorrow, for now, she was going to have a nap. She had a feeling they had all earned it.


End file.
